


Icy Revenge

by pennydrabbles



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Cute, Drama, F/M, Fluff, Gen, Gender Neutral, M/M, One Shot, Reader-Insert, Romance, Snow, Sweet, imagine
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-11
Updated: 2020-04-11
Packaged: 2021-03-01 17:21:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 866
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23590753
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pennydrabbles/pseuds/pennydrabbles
Summary: Imagine getting into a snowball fight with your boyfriend, Dean.
Relationships: Dean Winchester/Reader, Dean Winchester/You
Kudos: 22





	Icy Revenge

When you stepped out of the dark movie theater, snow spilled from the sky, dusting your lashes and face in an icy white powder. You held out your hand, watching the flakes melt on impact.

Dean turned his coat collar up, shoulders hunched around his ears.

“God, it’s cold,” he grumbled.

“It’s pretty,” you countered.

The street lights created a halo of illumination in the softened atmosphere, hazy and dream-like, making it seem as if time stood still.

“Come on, honey,” Dean said. “You’ll freeze to death out here.”

He slid his hand down your arm, tangling his fingers with yours. He pulled your arm into the crook of his elbow. You huddled closer against his shoulder, smiling up at the sky.

“Do we have to go back to the car right away?” you said. 

“Are you serious? Babe, it’s freakin’ _ **cold**_.”

“I want to walk for a little while. I’m not ready for tonight to be over.”

Dean sighed. “Fine.” He pointed at you. “But you better not warm your frigid little hands on me when you can’t feel your fingers anymore.”

You grinned and nuzzled his cheek. “I thought you liked that.”

Dean choked out a laugh. “You know damn well I don’t.”

“If I was so cold that it hurt, would you really just leave me to suffer?”

“I might. Especially when you refuse to get in the car with a perfectly good heater.”

“Grumpy, grumpy,” you teased, resting your head on Dean’s shoulder.

You and Dean walked like that for a while, no destination in mind, watching the snow, cuddled close for body heat. But when your teeth started chattering, Dean called it quits.

“We’d better head back,” he said.

“Nooo,” you pleaded. 

You moved in front of Dean to prevent him from leaving and slid your hands into his coat. You tucked your head under his chin, curling into the broad, comforting warmth of his chest. Dean wrapped his arms around you, rubbing his hands up and down your back.

“I can _feel_ you shivering, sweetheart.”

“Five more minutes.”

Dean chuckled. “You said the same thing fifteen minutes ago.”

You angled your head up and pressed a sweet, lingering kiss to the curve of Dean’s neck. Then another, just below his ear, the gentle heat of your breath against his skin.

Dean let out a sound between a growl and a groan. 

Suddenly, you pulled away. Dean blinked, his eyes slowly beginning to focus. You grinned at him as you backed up.

“If you want more where that came from,” you said. “You’ll have to catch me first.”

You took off running.

“Oh, you little - “ Dean said, laughing.

You barreled around a corner, taking advantage of your brief head start. You scooped up a handful of snow and turned.

A split second later, Dean hurtled into view. You let your snowball fly. He ducked and the snowball only clipped his shoulder. 

In the blink of an eye, you and Dean were trading fire, lobbing snowballs at each other as fast as you could, breathless with laughter.

Until one well-aimed throw you weren’t quick enough to dodge. 

Dean nailed you. Right in the face.

Your head snapped back. Your feet flew out from under you, sending you to the ground. Hard.

Dean swore. He slid on his knees beside you.

“Jesus Christ, sweetheart, are you okay?”

In response, you gathered a handful of snow, grabbed his collar and shoved it down his shirt.

Dean sucked in a sharp breath.

“Son of a bitch!” he sputtered.

You cackled and scrambled to get away. 

“Hell no,” Dean said. “Get your ass back here.”

He hooked an arm around your waist, pulling you under him as he pinned you against the snow. You giggled, grinning at him. 

The snow was frigid against your back but the weight of Dean on top of you kept you warm enough. He was so close, his nose nearly brushed yours. Your vision was full of nothing but him - his flushed cheeks, his eyes bright, his hands planted on either side of you.

“Well, that was worth it,” you said.

“Brat.”

You wiggled beneath Dean, fingers fumbling at his shirt in search of skin. He chuckled and caught your wrists.

“Don’t even think about it.”

“But I’m _cold_ ,” you pleaded in that tone you knew Dean couldn’t resist.

He gathered your hands in his, blowing on them, rubbing each finger that had grown numb from the snowball fight.

“Pretty sure this is the part where I get to say I told you so,” he said.

“And you can’t possibly pass up that opportunity, can you?”

He hummed, triumphant. “Nope.”

Dean dipped his head that final inch and kissed you, surrounding you with his heat. You draped your arms around his neck, smiling against his mouth. 

Then you hooked your fingers in the back of Dean’s coat, slipping your hand between his shoulder blades. He hissed a breath through his teeth when your ice cold fingers came in contact with his skin.

“I win,” you purred.

“Two can play at that game,” Dean replied.

And he buried his cold nose in the crook of your neck, earning a shriek from you.


End file.
